More than Life Itself
by peytona05
Summary: While on vacation, Starsky and Hutch uncover a mystery with an unusual twist. Set 20 years after the show ended. NOTE: Character Death.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: For those of you familiar with my "Hero" series, this is a separate piece and isn't to be considered a continuation of my previous stories. I wanted to try a storyline outside the "family man" idea, and I hope you enjoy it.**

xXxXx

Brian sat in his car, forcing himself to breathe deeply and slowly. He closed his eyes and tried to will his heart to stop beating so wildly. When he reopened them, he looked down the street at the liquor store, thinking that his wife wouldn't understand if she knew what he was up to. For that matter, neither would his colleagues. But this was just one of those things that had to be done.

Before pulling his stocking mask over his head, Brian was careful to to slide his police shield under his seat, out of view of any passersby.

xXxXx

Lieutenant Dave Starsky stood in full uniform as the most recent graduating class of the Bay City Police Academy made its way across the stage, each individual receiving his or her own badge and a certificate.

They'd been a good group, but he was anxious to get going. Once the ceremony was over, Starsky would begin his first real vacation in years, and he was going to spend it the only way he knew how - with his best friend.

xXxXx

Captain Ken Hutchinson absent-mindedly shuffled papers on his desk in the the Duluth, Minnesota downtown police department, then ran his fingers through his thinning blond hair before glancing at his watch.

It had only been five minutes since the last time he'd checked.

In just a matter of hours, he would pick Starsky up at the airport, and they'd spend the next two weeks reminiscing about the past and getting caught up with each other in person, rather than by phone.

Hutch had moved from Bay City in 1992 to take care of his aging parents, and had only seen his former partner twice since then. Hutch's mother had passed away in '94, and his dad in '96; Starsky had come east for both funerals.

But in the last three years, neither of them had been able to take any vacation time to visit the other, and they'd been forced to keep in touch by phone and email. When Starsky had mentioned his upcoming vacation, Hutch jumped at the chance to invite his friend out for a visit.

Hutch's attention was brought back to the present when his eyes settled on a report filed by two of his newest detectives just yesterday.

_Another liquor store burglary; that's just great. Third one this month. And we're no closer to finding who's behind it than we were before. Terrific. And this is the kind of welcome I'm giving my best friend, with me knee-deep in a case that can't be cracked._

With that thought, Hutch exited his office and walked into the adjoining area to talk to the pair of detectives that had filed the report. He wanted to know if they'd learned anything yesterday that had somehow not been filed.

xXxXx

Starsky walked through the den, hitting the power button on his TV set as he passed it. He continued walking, but stopped and looked at the screen when he heard the voices of Tony Randall and Jack Klugman.

"The Odd Couple. Oh, I remember this one," he mumbled to himself as he sat on the arm of the couch.

This particular episode was about Oscar's sleepwalking and swatting Felix with a newspaper. The pair discovered at the end that Oscar's suppressed irritation during the day was the cause for his nightly symnabulance.

As Starsky watched the rerun, he smiled at the memory of a comment Hutch had once made, and Starsky could hear his friend's voice as if the blond were sitting beside him.

_"If that were us, you'd be Oscar and I'd be Felix."_

It had been made as a joke, but both men knew that their backgrounds and personalities were different enough for the statement to be true.

Starsky remained seated for the remainder of the program, then turned the set off before finally heading to the bedroom to change out of his uniform.

It wasn't long before he was finally making his way to the airport, knowing that the Hutch-shaped hole in his life would soon be filled.

xXxXx

Hutch strolled through the airport, softly whistling a nonsensical tune as he made his way to Starsky's gate.

As anxious as he was to see his friend again, Hutch had to admit he was a bit preoccupied by the recent rash of holdups on liquor stores. They'd started two weeks ago, just after the first of the month, and at first glance, they didn't seem to be connected. But Hutch had been a cop for nearly three decades, and he hadn't made it to his current rank without learning to make connections.

All the reports said the holdups were taking place in various parts of town, on different days of the week and at different times. None of the clerks could describe the robber because he'd been wearing a dark stocking mask. Hutch's men couldn't even get a skin color due to the perp's long sleeves and gloves. They also didn't have a make or model on a getaway car. Nor had the perp actually fired the gun each witness claimed to have seen.

All in all, Hutch knew they had very little to go on, but in his gut he knew they were somehow connected to one another. He just wasn't sure how to prove it yet.

Hutch was so lost in thought that he almost didn't notice the crowd of people coming through the gate as they exited their plane. He just happened to glance up as Starsky emerged, and as their eyes met, it was as if the world around them faded away.

xXxXx

Starsky froze in his tracks as he stared at his friend. Had it really only been three years since they'd last been together?

_He's aged since I saw him last, and he's put on some weight. Of course, so have I. And he's got worry lines across the forehead...maybe I did the right thing in choosing the academy over that promotion._

Every observation passed into oblivion as his emotions flooded his senses. Starsky couldn't stop a tear from sliding down his cheek as he started walked again. Upon reaching his old partner, Starsky dropped his carry-on bag and wrapped his arms around Hutch.

xXxXx

**A/N: "The Odd Couple" televison show was based on a play by Neil Simon, and was developed by Garry Marshall & Jerry Belson. The episode mentioned here premiered October 1, 1971.**


	2. Chapter 2

The blond returned the embrace, fighting back his own tears. He hated that so much time had gone by, and it hadn't registered until now how much he'd missed his friend.

As Hutch pulled away, he reached his hand up and wiped the back of it across his eyes.

"It's been too long, Starsk," he whispered. "I've missed you."

Starsky smiled as he replied, "Same here. Listen, let's grab my bag and get outta here, huh?"

Hutch nodded his agreement. "We'll go back to my place. I've got something to show you, something you'll get a big kick out of."

xXxXx

Starsky trailed along behind Hutch to the guest room and placed his bags at the foot of the bed.

"So what is it you wanted me to see?"

Hutch motioned to Starsky to follow him, talking as he led the way to the master bedroom. "Do you remember after both my parents were gone, I started going through their stuff, trying to decide what to do with everything? Well, in one of those boxes, I found - and don't ask me what it was doing there - this photograph."

Starsky's eyes followed Hutch's pointing finger to a black and white, 8x10 photograph of themselves, taken around 1976. Starsky was wearing his favorite cardigan, and Hutch was sporting a denim jacket. They were both broadly smiling, and Hutch's hair was a mess.

"I remember the day we took that picture. We'd gone to the park with your folks for a picnic lunch, and it started to rain just as we sat down to eat."

xXxXx

Hutch smiled at the memory. "It rained for the next two hours, and once it cleared up enough, Dad wanted to take our picture. That's when the wind started blowing, and knocked everything off the table."

"So there your dad was," Starsky piped up again, "trying to operate camera, and your mom was running around behind him, chasing the leftovers all over the park."

Both men laughed, and Hutch draped an arm over his friend's shoulders. "God, Starsky, we were so young."

"I know, I still had all my curls."

"I still had all my hair."

"You've still got it," Starsky replied, with a mischievous grin. "It's just in different places now...your ears, your eybrows - hey, you may even have one or two on your chest."

They started laughing again, and when the chuckling died down, Starsky turned serious. "I know we don't look the same anymore, but there's one thing hasn't changed. You're still the best friend I ever had, Hutch, and if you ever need anything - _anything_ - you sure as hell better let me know."

Hutch smiled even as his thoughts turned back to those liquor stores. _C'mon, Hutchinson, he's here on vacation. You can't ask him to help you out with a case._

Even still, before he could stop himself, Hutch stated, "Actually, there may be something."

Hutch gave a brief description of the robberies, and when he was done, he looked quietly at his friend.

xXxXx

If Starsky didn't know better, he might have thought he and Hutch were back in Bay City, walking their old beat and trying to figure out what was going on.

_A string of robberies all over town, without any rhyme or reason, and he thinks they're related._

But even as the thought crossed his mind, Starsky knew Hutch was right. If there was one thing he'd learned in all the years they'd worked together, it was to trust his partner's instincts.

"Let me go with you to work tomorrow."

"What?" Hutch asked, surprised. "Now wait a minute, Starsk. You came out here on vacation."

"I came out here to be with you. Let me go with you; I'll take a look at the reports, talk to the guys that filed them, maybe talk to the shop owners and see if I can find out anything else. It'll be just like old times."

xXxXx

_Just like old times..._

The phrase echoed in Hutch's mind, alongside another one.

"Me and thee," he whispered.

Hutch locked eyes with Starsky, knowing that with his partner by his side, there was no way these burglaries would go unsolved.

xXxXx

**A/N: The photograph in Hutch's bedroom does exist; it was studio-issued and has been seen for sale on the "jumping frog" website. The story behind the photo, however, is a product of my imagination.**


	3. Chapter 3

Brian had been careful to erase the message from his answering machine before leaving the house. Heaven forbid Tonya should get home from work before he returned and find it.

As he drove to the address left on the machine, Brian went over in his mind the steps of the plan.

_3-2-1. Three liquor stores knocked over, two vandalisms, one murder._

The boss had chosen the stores and both addresses. As long as Brian successfully pulled off all five heists, the victim in the final step would be his own choice. And Brian didn't intend to fail. He intend to prove his loyalty.

xXxXx

"Graham, Andrews, come in here for a minute, will you?"

The salt-and-pepper duo exchanged glances before complying with their captain's request. What had they done now?

They entered Captain Hutchinson's office, where he was once again seated behind his desk after poking his head into the squad room. Across the small office from him was a darker-haired man they'd never met before.

"Gentlemen, this is Lt. Starsky, from Bay City, California. He's here on...ahem, special assignment. Starsky, Detectives Graham and Andrews."

xXxXx

Starsky had to force himself to not raise an eyebrow at Hutch's explanation. Special assignment? Well, if nothing else, it made his visit sound official.

He glanced over the pair standing caddy-cornered to his left. Around 30 and roughly six feet tall, they both looked nervous.

Finally, he spoke. "You look like you've gotten in trouble for something you didn't do. Relax, I've just got a couple questions about some reports you've filed recently. Now, which one of you is Graham and which is Andrews?"

The black man stepped forward. "I'm Graham."

Starsky took a closer look at the two. Graham was lean but muscular, and his dark skin was accented by the white dress shirt and light blue tie he wore. Andrews was a tad on the portly side, but he carried it well. His red hair was cut short and his freckles made him look as if a child had taken a red marker to his face. And while his partner seemed to have eased up, Andrews had not.

"Andrews," Starsky said, "you can relax. You're not in trouble, and you don't have to worry about me biting you."

xXxXx

The nerves in Andrews' shoulders slowly unwound. "Yes sir. I know that, sir."

"Good. Now, your captain tells me that you two were among the first to respond to a recent series of robberies at liquor stores."

"That's right, Lieutenant," Andrews responded. "For the last one, that is. The third liquor store to get hit is on our beat."

"Show me." The older man motioned to a wall map of the city.

Graham walked over, and taking a handful of blue pins, marked the three locations.

"The first occurred on Wednesday the 4th, at approximately 9:15 a.m., in the east part of town. The second was Thursday the 12th, a little before 4 p.m., to the north. The one we responded to - "

"Yesterday," Starsky cut in, "Tuesday the 17th."

"Correct, right around lunchtime, to the southwest."

xXxXx

Starsky stared at the map on the wall. He tried to make Hutch's gut instinct fit with the visual aid, but it wasn't working. He needed to know more.

"When you got there, what was the first thing you did?"

"Checked the area for a suspect," Graham replied, "but when he didn't turn up, we went back to talk to the clerk."

"He wasn't much help," Andrews piped up. "All he could give us was what he figured to be approximate height and weight. The perp's mask was too dark to tell skin color, and he wore long sleeves and gloves. Doesn't tell us much at all."

"Andrews, let me ask you a question. Suppose for a moment that you're gonna knock over a liquor store. Is there any reason why you'd wear a get-up like that?"

The younger man was quiet for a moment. "The mask, so I wouldn't be recognized; the gloves, to keep from accidentally leaving fingerprints; but a sweatshirt...well personally, if it were me, I probably wouldn't. Not in August."

Starsky's ears perked. "Sweatshirt?"

"Yes, Lieutenant. The witnesses at every heist saw a man wearing a navy blue sweatshirt."

"They were sure it was a sweatshirt, not a dress shirt or a long-sleeved tee?"

"Positive, sir."

"Anything special about it? Any pictures or writing on it?"

Graham answered, "No one we spoke to mentioned anything."

Starsky looked at Hutch, who immediately dismissed the two younger men.

"What are you thinking, Starsk?"

"I don't know yet. Geographically, they don't seem connected, you're right about that. You're also right about the dates and times being so random. And look at these street names. There's no connection there either, at least none that I can see. But a sweatshirt - there may be something to that, Hutch."

xXxXx

The blond tried to follow his friend's logic.

"Come again?"

"Think about it," Starsky said as he sat down and propped his feet up on Hutch's desk. "If we can come across one witness - just one - who can remember anything special about that sweatshirt, we'll be that much closer to finding out who's behind these robberies."

Hutch smiled as he reached across his desk and playfully pushed Starsky's feet off. "All right, wise guy. Let's say that there is something special about it. Why didn't anybody say so?"

"Who knows? Could be any number of reasons. You've got copies of those reports, right? I want to take a look at them, and if you could get me the contact information for the witnesses, that'd be great."

Hutch rose from his chair to find what Starsky had asked for, and as he shuffled through papers in his filing cabinet, he thought about that sweatshirt idea his partner had latched onto. Hutch had known the perp had been wearing a sweatshirt, but for whatever reason, Hutch just hadn't thought to find out if anybody had followed up on it.

_In your old age, you're falling down on the job, Hutch. You gotta do better than that._

The blond handed Starsky the reports and returned to his seat to begin tracking down addresses and phone numbers for each witness at the robberies.


	4. Chapter 4

Brian sat at his desk, trying to focus on the work in front of him. His mind kept wondering to the job he had to do tonight.

When he'd gone to the address yesterday, it hadn't seemed like such a big deal. A little bit of spray paint wouldn't bother anybody, right?

He may have been a rookie cop, but he knew better. He'd been involved with the Knights entirely too long to think that their sprayed-on messages never hurt anyone.

So why the hell was he going through with it? Why had he agreed to do it?

_Because you're a coward_, he told himself. _You're a coward who doesn't know how to do the right thing at the right time._

xXxXx

Starsky and Hutch walked back to the blond's office from the cafeteris after lunch.

"As far as you know, do you need your car for anything this afternoon?" Starsky inquired.

Hutch pursed his lips as he thought through his schedule. "No, I don't think so. Are you wanting to get started on that witness list?"

"Yeah, is that okay with you?"

"No problem, just be back about a quarter to six to pick me up."

Hutch reached into his pocket for his keys, unlocked his office door, then removed his car key and handed it to his partner. "In the glove compartment is a city map. You got those addresses?"

"Yes," Starsky answered as he patted the breast pocket that contained them. "All right, I'll be back in a few hours, and hopefully I'll know something."

Hutch smiled as Starsky left the room, silently wishing him luck.

xXxXx

Starsky returned to the precinct at half past five, disheartened by the lack of information he'd uncovered that afternoon. He'd made his way through roughly half the list Hutch had given him, and while not everyone had been home, none of the people Starsky had contacted had been any more help than the first time they'd been interviewed.

Still in the car, he glanced toward the building, inhaling and letting it out slowly. Starsky let his memory go back 20 or 25 years, back to the good old days when he and Hutch were beat cops. It all seemed so easy then, almost as if the pieces simply fell into place. Even when everything was so mixed up and they couldn't make heads or tails out of anything, in the end they got the information they needed. One of their snitches always came through.

Starsky sucked his teeth and squinted his blue eyes as a light bulb came to life in his mind.

_Maybe that's the problem...maybe we're looking to the wrong people for answers._

He quickly exited the car and made his way to Hutch's office.

xXxXx

The blond looked up from the paperwork in front of him as Starsky entered the room and sat down.

"Hey, how'd it go?"

"It could've gone better," Starsky responded. "I wasn't able to find out anything we didn't already know."

"No one remembered anything about that sweatshirt, huh? I was afraid of that. Well, what do you wanna do? You're welcome to my car again tomorrow."

"Thanks, but I've got an idea on how we may be able to get to the bottom of this sooner."

Hutch's interest was piqued. He knew that Starsky often came up with some crazy schemes, but when it came to police work and solving crimes, his ideas were seldom harebrained.

"All right, let's have it."

"In Bay City, who was the first person we went to when we needed info? Huggy Bear, right? Now look, I know you haven't been here that long, but do you know anybody at all that might know something?"

Of the seven years that Hutch had been in Duluth, four and a half had been spent as a lieutenant with a desk job. When he'd been promoted two and half years ago, the job had come with greater responsibility and even more paperwork. He'd never had much time for cultivating the type of friendship he and Starsky had had with Huggy.

"Starsk, I don't know. There might be one or two, but you know as well as I do that there's no guarantee."

"Will you at least give them a call? Even if they don't know anything, we won't be any worse off than we are right now."

Hutch knew his partner had a point. With the thought that perhaps he'd luck out, Hutch picked up the phone and dialed his informant's number. Upon hearing the other man's voice, Hutch promptly asked him to keep his ear to the ground.

xXxXx

Brian walked through the dark church parking lot, and as he glanced up at the overcast sky, he breathed a short prayer of forgiveness. He'd never claimed to be a man of faith, but a church wasn't exactly public property. It was supposed to be God's house, and if God really existed, Brian figured it couldn't hurt to say "I'm sorry" ahead of time.

_I don't know if you're there or not, but if you are, and you're listening, I hope you know I'm not doing this out of spite. I gotta do this, or something worse is gonna happen to me. God, if you're really out there...I hope you understand._

With that thought, Brian looked around once more to be sure he was alone, then reached into his shoulder bag. He pulled out a can of black spray paint, shook it up, and took aim at the white wall of the church.


	5. Chapter 5

The following morning, Starsky and Hutch were listening to the news while making their way to the precinct. Their light-hearted banter quieted as the newscaster began a new topic.

"The Black Knights have struck again. It was discovered early this morning that a pair of crossbones, the Knights' symbol, had been spray painted on the side of St. Paul's Lutheran Church during the night."

"Damn," Hutch said angrily as he pounded a fist on the steering wheel.

"Who are the Black Knights?" Starsky wanted to know.

"Duluth's largest, roughest gang," Hutch replied. "You know how gangs typically stick to one part of town? Not the Knights. They're everywhere, and they have their fingers in practically everything you can imagine. I couldn't even begin to describe the havoc they've wreaked, just in the few years I've been home."

A thought niggled at the back of Starsky's mind. "They're all over town, huh? Hutch, have you wondered at all if maybe the Knights are behind these liquor store robberies?"

He watched his partner shake his head. "That's not their style, Starsk, to knock over a store and not leave their mark. When the Knights have been somewhere, _everyone_ knows it."

"Yeah, but maybe - "

"Starsky, there's no 'maybe' here. There's been no talk at the station about the Knights being involved; I would've heard it. Now, tell me again how far down that list you made it yesterday."

It wasn't often Hutch shot down one of his ideas, and Starsky didn't like it when he did. But one thing he knew he had to remember was that Hutch was much better acquainted with these streets than he was. If Hutch said the Knights weren't involved, then it was highly unlikely that they were.

"About halfway, but not everyone was home. What I thought I'd do was go back to the people I couldn't get a hold of yesterday; start with them, then work my way through the remainder of the list."

Hutch nodded. "Sounds good. Probably won't take you all day, huh?"

"I doubt it; I should be back by lunch."

Both men were silent as Hutch pulled into his reserved parking spot, and while he was removing the key to his office, Hutch said, "I hope you have better luck than you did yesterday."

"Thanks, me too. Call me on my mobile if you hear anything from that snitch of yours."

"Will do. Call me too."

With that, Hutch exited the car. Starsky watched briefly from the passenger seat as his partner crossed the parking lot. As he opened his door to walk around to the driver's side, he glanced at the first unchecked name on his list.

_Shirley Tate, 407 Maple Street. I hope you're home this time, lady, and that you've got new information for me._

xXxXx

Twenty minutes later, Starsky once again found himself ringing the doorbell at 407 Maple Street. A few moments passed before he heard a child's voice call from the other side, "Who is it?"

"The police," he called back as he reached for his wallet to present his badge.

"Grandma, the police are here!" Then, slightly muffled: "Are you getting arrested?"

An older woman promptly opened the door. "Yes? May I help you?"

She looked to be 65 or 70 years of age, with streaks of gray running through her brown hair. Noting the sunflower apron over her blue dress, Starsky wondered if he was interrupting breakfast.

"Shirley Tate?" he asked. When she nodded, he held out his badge. "My name is Lt. Starsky, from the Bay City, California, police department. I'm here in Duluth on" - what had Hutched called it yesterday? - "special assignment. May I come in?"

"Certainly," the lady answered, and she held the screen door open for him. "May I offer you some coffee?"

"Thank you, no. I hope not to take up much of your time. I just have a few questions to ask you."

"Come into the kitchen, and we'll talk while I finish getting breakfast ready."

Starsky followed her through the parlor into the kitchen, where a blond-haired little girl was seated at the table.

"Are you really from the police?" she wanted to know.

"Yes, but don't worry about your grandma getting arrested." He smiled when she blushed at the realization she'd been heard. "I just need to talk to her for a few minutes."

Mrs. Tate poured cereal and milk into a bowl and placed it before the child. "Stacy, eat your breakfast. What would you like to talk about, Lieutenant?"

"Well, I was given a list of people who were in the immediate area when some liquor stores were robbed recently; your name was on it."

"Ah, I see; the robbery that took place last Thursday afternoon. I've talked to the police already, but I guess if they've got an out-of-towner working on it, they must really want to catch the man that did it. I'd gone to the grocery store with Stacy; she lives with my husband and me. He's semi-retired and works part time at a hardware store, and that's where he was last Thursday. Anyway, she and I needed to do some grocery shopping. The market's not far from here, so we walked, and the liquor store is on the way. We were coming home and were about to pass the store when a man came running out the door, carrying a gun in one hand and a paper bag in the other."

"Did he say anything?"

Mrs. Tate was quiet for a moment as she thought. "No...no, I don't think so."

"Can you describe him at all?"

She shrugged. "What he was wearing - a mask, gloves, a navy blue sweatshirt, and black dress pants."

Starsky had been taking notes, but he stopped mid-stroke. "Dress pants?"

"Yes, like what you're wearing."

He couldn't help but scratch his head in confusion. _A sweatshirt and dress pants? What kind of joker are we looking for?_

"Pardon me if my question sounds a little far-fetched, but did you happen to get a look at his shoes?"

"Oh certainly; they were dress shoes."

"Let me guess, like what I'm wearing?" Starsky lifted one foot off the floor and set it down after she'd glanced at it.

"That's right."

"Grandma," Stacy piped up around a mouthful of Cheerios. "You need to tell him about the bones I saw."

Starsky quickly turned his attention to the little girl. "What bones?"

"I saw them on his sleeves. We had to wait and talk to the police last week before we could come home, and I tried to tell them, but nobody would listen. So I told Grandma when we got home."

Starsky wondered why Mrs. Tate hadn't called to tell the police about it, but at least he was getting to hear about it firsthand.

"I'll listen," he said as he knelt by the little girl's chair. "Tell me about the bones you saw."

"They were on his sleeves," Stacy repeated. "Here at the wrists. There were two long bones, one over the other like this." She made an X with her arms. "And there was a head on top of them."

_Crossbones, just like the Black Knights._

"Did you see anything else?" he asked, trying to hide his enthusiasm.

"No, that was all." She sounded a little apologetic.

"Well, thank you very much for telling me what you did see. It was a big help. Mrs. Tate, may I leave you my number in case either of you remembers something else?"

When she consented, Starsky reached into his pocket and pulled out a business card. "I'll circle my mobile phone number, and I'll write on the back the office number where you can reach me here, in case I don't answer my own phone."

After adding the number to Hutch's office, he handed the card to Mrs. Tate. "Thank you, Mrs. Tate, and thank you, Stacy. You've both been very helpful. I'll see myself out."

Starsky nodded his good-byes and walked through the house, dialing Hutch's number as he went.

"Hutch, I'm coming in, and have I got a story for you."


	6. Chapter 6

Brian looked at the number that appeared on the screen of his beeper. The boss's private number. He motioned to his partner that he'd be back shortly, then stepped into the hallway, punching the digits into his mobile phone as he went.

"This is Blaze. What's my next assignment?"

"The mayor's house - 1752 Irving Street. Saturday night, after midnight."

_The mayor? Are you crazy?_

"Got it."

Brian ended the call and walked slowly back to his desk. He had to be stupid to keep taking chances like this, especially considering the line of work he was in. Was proving his loyalty to the Knights really so important that he would risk being overheard on the phone? seen with the wrong people? arrested?

In the end, Brian decided it didn't really matter. If he didn't go through with the plan, he'd probably end up dead for becoming a cop. At least if he got arrested, he'd be alive.

_In prison, but alive._

xXxXx

Hutch, to put it mildly, was surprised by what Starsky had to say.

"This little girl is sure - one hundred percent sure - she saw crossbones on his cuffs?"

"She couldn't have been more sure, if she was telling me her name. Hutch, we can't just sit on this; is there someone you can call?"

The blond picked up the phone and dialed a number. "There is, actually. Kevin Doyle."

"Who the hell is Kevin Doyle?"

"A twenty-year-old kid that lives around the corner from me. He's a member of the Black Knights, and I've been trying to get him out of that life." Hutch motioned for silence. "Kevin? This is Captain Hutchinson, from around the corner. Listen, I was wondering if I could come by this afternoon and ask you a couple questions. No, you're not in trouble, but it's kind of important. Thanks Kevin, I'll be there about 2 p.m."

After returning the phone to its cradle, Hutch continued. "Anyway, Kevin puts on a tough act, but he's running scared. If the Knights were involved with any of these robberies, I think I'll be able to get him to talk. You wanna come?"

"I wouldn't miss it for the world."

xXxXx

Hutch rang the doorbell at precisely two o'clock, and the door was quickly opened by a young man with shoulder length black hair, an earring, and a cigarrette hanging loosely between two fingers.

"Get in here before someone sees you, man. I don't want nobody knowing I got the heat inside."

Starsky and Hutch crossed the threshhold, only to have the door slammed and locked behind them.

As the young man turned from the door, he realized Hutch wasn't alone. "Hey, you didn't tell me you were bringing somebody else with you."

"Relax," Hutch said. "Kevin Doyle, this is Lt. Dave Starsky, and we've been friends longer than you've been alive. You can trust him; anything you say will go no further than the two of us."

Kevin eyed Starsky suspiciously for a moment before looking back at Hutch. "You said you wanted to talk. What about?"

"Here's the thing, Kevin: You know those liquor stores that have been robbed recently? Rumor has it that the Knights were behind at least one of them, and we'd like to know if there's any truth to that story."

"Hey man, I don't know what you're talking about," Kevin rushed to say. "If word got back to the boss that crap like that was going around - "

"Kevin," Hutch interrupted, "we have a witness that swears up and down that they saw the perp wearing a navy blue sweatshirt with the Knights' crossbones on the cuffs. Now I know for a fact that you guys don't leave your laundry laying around for just anybody to sort through. If you know anything about those robberies, you'd better tell me, and I mean right now."

The young man sighed as his shoulders drooped. "All right, this is what I can tell you: We've got some guy - used to be in real tight with the boss - that's all of a sudden gotta prove his loyalty to the Knights. The boss gave him the 3-2-1 plan."

"What's that?" Hutch wanted to know.

"It's a series of tests, and it's exactly what it sounds like - three robberies, two vandalisms, one murder. The boss chooses the places for the first five, and if nothing goes wrong, you get to choose your murder victim."

Hutch snapped his fingers. "The vandalism at the Lutheran church; that was part of it, wasn't it? Kevin, do you have any idea where this guy's gonna strike next?"

Kevin was silent as looked from Hutch, to Starsky, then back to Hutch. Then, "I was at the hangout last night. I heard the boss say something about Irving Street, this coming Saturday night."

"The mayor lives on Irving Street," Hutch said quietly. He looked at his partner. "You up for a stakeout this weekend? Maybe catch a vandal in the act?"

"I am if you are. Thanks for your help, Kevin. Say, you mentioned this guy was having to prove his loyalty. Makes me wonder why."

Kevin shrugged. "We have a few rumors of our own, Lieutenant. One that's been floating around is that he became a cop."

Starsky and Hutch stopped in their tracks and stared, first at each other then at Kevin.

"Say that again."

"I don't know how true that is, Captain, but yeah. I've heard he's a cop."

xXxXx

Both men were quiet on the way back to the station; Hutch, because he was too upset to speak, and Starsky, because he had no idea what he could possibly say to soften this blow.

_A cop that's involved with a gang? A gang member that's hiding behind a badge? He took an oath to uphold the laws of this city, yet he's associated with people that aren't afraid to break them. It could be almost any one of those turkeys walking up and down those halls._

"Almost" was the key word. The only one Starsky knew beyond a shadow of a doubt wasn't the man they were after, was the man he was sitting next to. He silently reached a hand over and gripped his partner's shoulder, letting Hutch know he wasn't alone.


	7. Chapter 7

"Are you sure we didn't need to let anybody know we were coming out here; like, maybe the mayor?"

It was a quarter to midnight Saturday evening, and Starsky and Hutch had positioned themselves to clearly see the mayor's house. Walkie-talkies in hand, Starsky was leaning against a front yard tree, and Hutch was hiding in some back yard shrubbery.

"Positive," Hutch radioed back. "First of all, the mayor's not home; his anniversary's tomorrow, and he's taken his wife on a second honeymoon. Second of all, I promised Kevin we wouldn't tell anybody else, remember?"

Yeah, he remembered. He also remembered that there was a chance they were waiting for another cop, and to be honest, he wasn't excited by the possibility of duking it out with a fellow officer.

But mostly he remembered that his best friend was sitting in the back yard, counting on Starsky to watch his back and not let anything go wrong tonight.

xXxXx

Brian eased himself out of bed, careful not to disturb Tonya. He quietly changed into a pair of black slacks and pulled his Knights' sweatshirt over his head.

He crept through the house and made his way into the carport, where he'd hidden the shoulder bag containing the spray paint. After checking to make sure his gun was still inside, Brian tossed the bag in the car through the passenger side window, then walked around to get in.

He buckled his seat belt and cranked the engine, then looked over his shoulder as he backed out of the carport. He then drove towards Irving Street, making sure he parked around the corner from the mayor's home. Before exiting the car, Brian hid his badge under the seat and pulled his mask down over his face.

xXxXx

Hutch was trying to keep himself from falling asleep, but that was easier said than done. He hadn't been on a midnight stakeout in years, and he was definitely feeling his age tonight.

_Yessiree, Hutchinson, you're not a spring chicken anymore._

At that moment, he saw some movement in the far end of the bushes. Movement that was too strong to be a squirrel or a rabbit, too strong even for a stray dog.

"Starsk," he whispered into his walkie-talkie. "I've got company."

"I'm on my way," came the response. "Don't do anything 'til I get there."

Hutch sat quietly in his hiding spot, and as he waited for his partner, he watched a shadowy figure rise from the bushes.

xXxXx

Brian reached into his bag, first for his gun, then for its silencer. He didn't anticipate needing to use it, but neither did he want to alert neighbors if he had to pull the trigger.

Once the silencer was attached, Brian stuffed the gun under his belt and began digging through his shoulder bag for the black spray paint. He pulled it out and began to shake it, but stopped when he heard a voice.

"Freeze! You're under arrest!"

Brian looked across the yard and saw his superior, Captain Hutchinson, and that cop from California. He'd been watching them the last few days at the precinct. The lieutenant seemed to be more than just a visiting officer; he and the captain were friends, and appeared to have been for many years.

But what did they know about him? Brian didn't intend to wait around and find out. As the two older cops started walking towards him, Brian reached for his gun, aimed at the lieutenant, and fired off two rounds.

In his hurry to flee the scene, Brian dropped not only his spray paint & shoulder bag, but his gun as well.

xXxXx

Hutch was stunned to watch Starsky fall to the ground, and for a moment, he couldn't do anything, not even breathe. When he finally regained control of his senses, Hutch rushed to kneel beside his partner. He checked to see where Starsky had been hit; once in the shoulder, and once in the chest.

"Starsk," Hutch spoke softly but urgently. "Starsk, you all right?"

He heard his partner's labored breathing. "I don't know...I...I don't feel...anything."

Hutch's eyes filled with tears, and he didn't bother to stop them. "C'mon, you gotta be okay. Don't die on me, Starsk; you can't die on me."

More labored breathing. "If I gotta die...at least...my best friend is...here with me. You know, Hutch, I love you...love you more than life itself. I know I haven't told you every day, but..."

Starsky's voice trailed off, and Hutch waited with eyes closed for Starsky to finish his sentence. When he didn't, Hutch opened his eyes and saw that Starsky's eyes had rolled back. He checked for a pulse and didn't find one.

The blond repositioned himself so he could hold Starsky's head in his lap, and the tears fell harder.

"Yes you have, partner; you've told me every day of my life."


	8. Chapter 8

The rest of the night and most of Sunday were a blur for Hutch. After what had only been twenty minutes, but had seemed like an eternity, he finally went back to his car and radioed for help. An ambulance, a crime scene unit, and a handful of uniformed officers joined him at the mayor's residence shortly.

A uniform was peppering him with questions, but Hutch was more interested in making sure the EMTs were careful in loading Starsky's body and seeing to it that the CSU made note of the gun they found.

"Fingerprints need to be lifted and registration traced as soon as possible," he said repeatedly. "I have reason to believe it was another cop that did this."

The uniformed officers were finally able to hold Hutch's attention long enough to get a statement, and told him he was free to go. But Hutch refused to leave.

"Maybe I wasn't clear," he said firmly. "The man that died tonight was my partner, my _best friend_. I'm not going anywhere. I'm staying right here to make sure nothing is missed. I wanna nail the man responsible."

Through all his grief and lack of sleep, Hutch was vaguely aware of one fact: As a captain, he'd have to answer directly to the commissioner as to why he had stayed behind instead of going after the vandal. Somewhere deep inside, Hutch had only one excuse, that he'd obeyed his original training and stayed with his partner.

xXxXx

Hutch made it home mid-Sunday afternoon, and he collapsed in his recliner. After finally leaving the crime scene - he had no idea what time - he'd gone to the precinct to try and get some work done. He'd been able to get in touch with the mayor's assistant, to pass on the news of a murder on his property. Hutch had also put in a call for the lead CSU investigator, reminding here about the gun's fingerprints and registration.

"It's urgent," he'd said in his message. "If at all possible, I need it by the end of the day on Monday."

Now as he leaned back in his lazy-boy, Hutch tried to keep his tears at bay. He'd finally gotten his grief over the deaths of his parents under control, and here he was, having to start the mourning process over again.

_Starsky, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I dragged you into this whole mess. I'm sorry I invited you to come out here. I'm sorry I asked you to help me, and I'm sorry I asked to tag along on that stakeout last night. If you hadn't come with me, you wouldn't have died. Starsky, I'm sorry I got you killed._

With that thought, Hutch lost the battle, and his tears once again spilled over onto his cheeks.

xXxXx

Brian had trouble coming, and he knew it.

He knew he was going to get chewed out by the boss when he found out Brian had not only botched the job on Irving Street, but had also murdered somebody before the fifth assignment was finished.

He also knew that he'd be in trouble with Captain Hutchinson when the registration on his gun was traced back to Brian. He hadn't meant to leave his gun, but by the time he'd realized his mistake, it was too late to go back for it.

Unless he could find a way to shift the blame on somebody else - a scapegoat that he could frame for stealing his weapon - that gun would be Brian's downfall. He was going to be arrested for murder.

He could only hope the boss didn't get to him first.

xXxXx

Hutch returned the phone to its cradle Monday afternoon and squeezed the bridge of his nose before moving his hand to massage his temples. He hadn't slept well the night before and had a pounding headache as a result.

Inspite of how he felt, however, Hutch thanked his lucky stars for small favors. He'd just gotten off the phone with the lead investigator; she'd made the gun first priority this morning, and the results had just come in.

"We lifted the prints and checked them against all new cops, going back eighteen months, just like you asked," she'd said. "The match we came across, plus the registration, point to one man. Brian Andrews."

Hutch couldn't believe it. Andrews had shown such promise, had seemed to be so eager to learn how to be a good cop. The fact that Starsky's murderer was one of Hutch's men made the discovery bittersweet.

Hutch knew Andrews needed to be arrested; there was no question about that. He just wasn't sure how to go about it.

_I'd rather not do it in the squad rom for everybody to see it, but there's a chance he might run if I try to get him alone._

Hutch finally settled on an idea, albeit one he wasn't entirely fond of, and poked his head into the squad room.

"Graham, Andrews. Come in here for a moment, will you?"

xXxXx

Andrews wasn't sure what to make of the captain's invitation.

_He must not know I'm the one who shot Lt. Starsky; otherwise, why would he be calling both me and Graham into his office?_

Andrews followed his partner into their captain's office, where he motioned for them to sit down.


	9. Chapter 9

As he watched Andrews lower himself into a chair, Hutch had to force himself to use every ounce of self-restraint he had. More than anything, he wanted to reach across his desk and slap the freckles off the younger man's face.

Instead, he asked a simple question. "You two came from the academy together, didn't you?"

"Yes sir," Graham answered. "Eight months ago."

"You get along all right? I mean, you work together okay?"

"I think so," Graham replied again as he looked at Andrews. "What about you?"

Hutch also turned his gaze to Andrews, who only nodded.

"I worked out of state for a number of years, and my partner and I were inseparable. Not just when we were working, but off duty as well. We took vacations together, double dated, there was even a girl or two we fought over. In a lot of ways, we were like brothers. Pardon me if I come across as sentimental, but he died recently, and I've been thinking a lot about him this morning."

"I'm sorry, sir," Graham stated. "Would...would you mind telling us about working with him? Maybe give us a few pointers?"

Hutch looked at Andrews before responding. _He looks uncomfortable. You know, don't you, Andrews? You know the man I'm talking about is the man you shot Saturday night._

"When we'd be in the middle of a case, and a break finally came, we never had to ask how the other wanted to handle it. We were always on the same page, always in sync with each other. Never had to wonder what the other was thinking, because it was always what we were already thinking."

"How long did you know him?" Graham wanted to know.

Hutch smiled. "More than twenty-five years. Anyway, thanks for listening. Now, back to business. Those liquor store robberies- we know who did it."

xXxXx

Andrews wanted to bolt. How was it possible, when he'd left no evidence behind? The captain had to be bluffing.

He sat nervously and listened as Captain Hutchinson explained about a witness who claimed to have seen a pair of crossbones on the sweatshirt the perp was wearing, and that those crossbones had been connected to the Black Knights.

"The Black Knights?" Andrews piped up suddenly. "I don't mean to be disrespectful, Captain, but come on. The Knights would've clearly left their mark if they'd been involved."

xXxXx

"I thought so too. Until I found out about the 3-2-1 plan." _Sorry, Kevin._ "Three robberies, two vandalisms, one murder. It started out with the liquor stores, then moved on to the Lutheran church Wednesday night. I received word that the mayor's house was the next target, so I set up a stakeout. The guy would've been caught too, except for one thing. He shot the officer that was with me, and in his haste to leave the scene, he left his gun. Fingerprints were lifted and registration was traced; we have a match."

It was at that point Andrews jumped out of his seat to run, but Hutch was quicker. He grabbed hold of the younger man's collar and dragged him back into the chair.

"Sit down, Andrews. You're under arrest."

xXxXx

Graham's heart sank as he stared at the freckled young man that was his partner. He couldn't believe it.

"Andrews, I don't understand. How is it even possible? We were working the day of the third robbery. How could you have done it?"

He watched the other man shrug his shoulders. "It was lunchtime, and there was a long line at that fast food place where you wanted to stop. I had more than enough time to pull it off."

xXxXx

Hutch watched as Graham turned his gaze from Andrews to him. "Captain, why didn't I see it? He's my partner."

Hutch's heart broke. "The man he killed...was mine."

xXxXx

_"You know, Hutch, I love you...love you more than life itself. I know I haven't told you every day, but..."_

_"Yes you have partner; you've told me every day of my life."_


End file.
